Get Better
by EmilyWood
Summary: Ginny visits the same ward at St. Mungo's every month to visit the man she gave her heart to so many years ago. She's moved on with her life, but still something is missing.


Ginny made her way down the corridor with Neville. Neville had been there many times, but Ginny...not so many. The dimly lit candles gave off a morbid feeling of decay... a feeling of death. It sickened Ginny, which was why she chose to visit as seldom as possible. But whether she wanted to or not, she had a responsibility to her son, to _his_ son.

They stopped in front of the door, and Neville gave her hand a slight squeeze. Ginny looked into his eyes, looking for reassurance. 'It'll be all right,' he said quietly. 'I'm going to visit Mum and Dad, but I'll be right over once I'm through.' He kissed her lightly on the lips. 'If you finish before I do, then I'll meet you downstairs, OK?'

Ginny nodded. She watched him continue down the corridor to his parents' room. He had started visiting them more often, hoping to make Ginny more comfortable with St. Mungo's. He didn't understand that it wasn't St. Mungo's that she wasn't comfortable with--it was that ward: the Janus Thickey Ward. Every time she walked it, every time she smelled the disinfectant odour, she wished it were her last.

Ginny looked at the brass holder where the name _Mathilda Glavinstein_ was written. She turned the knob and opened the door to a room where rays of light were pouring in through the open window.

A dark-haired man sat in a chair, staring out the window. Ginny had grown accustomed to not being greeted as she entered the room. She took her seat next to him by the window--still no reaction. The first few minutes were always the worst, not knowing how to talk to the first man she ever loved.

'Hello, Harry,' Ginny said quietly, placing a hand on his.

Finally, he looked at her, his eyes blank, as if looking right through her at the white wall behind her. Then, slowly, he turned and looked back out the window.

And so it began, as it did every time she visited. Ginny received the same, emotionless gaze and felt the same empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

'Mum said she came and visited with Dad a few weeks ago,' Ginny said. 'I don't know if they told you, but Neville and I are having a baby. You remember Neville.' She smiled, remembering Neville as he was at Hogwarts. 'He's visiting his mum and dad today.'

Ginny could feel herself losing interest. Whenever she tried to talk about Neville to Harry, words failed her. 'James is growing like a weed. He just turned four. Looks just like you.' She smiled proudly. But then, suddenly, her heart sank. 'We haven't told him about you yet,' she said quietly. 'He wasn't even born when you were brought in here. We--Neville and I--thought it best to just wait until he was a bit older...'

Harry closed his eyes as a gust of breeze blew through the window, making his hair fly back out of his eyes, revealing his scar.

'The healer says this one's a girl,' Ginny said bubbly, patting her stomach. 'Neville wants to do mothers' names. Alice for his mum and Molly for mine...' Ginny stared at his green eyes, so much like his mother's. 'I want to use Lily instead,' she said plainly. She chuckled to herself. 'When I told Mum, she was furious. But she understood when I explained that it meant a lot to me. That's what I love about her--she always understands.'

A creak came from the door, and Ginny quickly stood up.

The healer, a woman in her early twenties, greeted her warmly with a smile. 'Sorry to interrupt, but I'm Mathilda Glavinstein, Mr. Potter's healer. I'm supposed to put him back in bed. He's only supposed to stay by the window for an hour each day. Healer-in-Charge in this ward thinks that constant knowledge of the outside world may make the patients too eager to return.'

'But couldn't that be a good thing?' Ginny said as the woman helped Harry out of his chair, leading him back over to the bed. 'Couldn't encouragement to reach the outside world quicken the healing process?'

'I wish it were true, ma'am,' the healer said sadly and pulled the blanket up over Harry's torso. 'But extensive research has shown that the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, when overused on one victim, are irreversible. You must understand that these patients--Mr Potter and the Longbottoms being the most well known examples--are in here for life.'

Ginny sighed and brushed Harry's fringe aside to look at his scar. 'I think you're wrong,' she said simply.

The healer shrugged and left Ginny and Harry alone in the room.

'She's full of rubbish,' Ginny said, sliding her hand inside his. 'They all are. I know you remember.' Harry's eyes stared straight across the room at the picture of a breezy meadow where a couple was having a picnic.

'Ron and Hermione are getting married this summer,' Ginny said cheerfully. 'Mum had to have told you that. I don't think there's anyone she hasn't told.' She giggled to herself. 'It's about time though.'

Ginny thought. She knew there was more going on that he didn't know about. 'Neville's Gran is sick. She's here too--down on the second floor. She'll be out soon, I'm sure.' Ginny paused and smiled sadly at Harry. 'You will too...one day,' she whispered.

The door opened once more. This time Neville stood in the doorway. 'It's time to go, Ginny,' Neville said quietly, as if he would wake Harry from a deep sleep if he spoke any louder.

Ginny nodded and slipped her hand out of Harry's. She put her hand on his face, rubbing his smooth skin and leaned down near him. 'You will get better. I know it.' She kissed him on the forehead and forced herself to leave his side, only looking back once to see the glazed look still in his eyes.

She closed the door and walked the corridor with Neville once more. It would only be another month before she walked the corridor again, dreading what was behind Harry's door. There would be a new healer and a new day ahead, but she knew it would still be the same Harry.

And while she walked the corridor with her husband, Harry was staring at the painting of a woman with red hair and bright brown eyes, picnicking with a brown-haired man, who had brilliant green eyes that were hidden behind glasses. No one was there to see a small smile spread across his usual blank face as he spoke the name of the girl in the portrait for the first time in four years. 'Ginny.'


End file.
